As the Pebble Strikes the Heart

July 16, 2014

I had a dream in the wee hours, and in this dream I was working to save two black bear cubs. The bank of the shore was beginning to crumble and I had both cubs in my arms. They struggled, and I struggled to keep them from drowning. At one point, I thought all three of us would be lost, then suddenly, I was able to lift myself up out of the water with the two, and get back on land. It was a brief but joyous moment.

There was a storm of what appeared to be ash, but also heavy wind, and I found myself walking through wet, slushy snow in my bare feet. I recall being amazed that I felt no cold on my feet, or anywhere, but the cubs shivered at one point. Later, I heard the voices of men coming and knew them to be filled with something unhealthy. We hid for a short time. One cub grew heavier and left. The other stayed with me like an infant in my arms. There was much more going on which I won’t get into, but at one stage, I ran into an old friend. She exclaimed excitedly that she had found a nest of cubs, and had taken one. Seeing that the cub was not with her, I asked what she did with it. She told me she had taken it to a reserve to let others care for it. I felt unsure of the reserve. I sensed that it was ill equipped to meet the cub’s needs.

The black cub represents Liberation. This I am sure of. Spiritual Freedom feeds on the wild honey and the nuts … to gain its strength and grow. The color of the cubs was a blackness like I have never seen! Dark coated, but soft, and beautiful, with very clear eyes. The dark of the coat represents dreams. This I am sure of. If you think of time traveling, there is a Forward and a Return in this. The cub left at the reserve is the Present. The Forward has been set loose as we are now in the Return. This is the ESSENCE of my dream.

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I received word yesterday that some readers quit reading SPIR. The reasons told to me varied, but what was clear in most of these was that they were skimming. The readers were skimming, and looking for a lift. I saw this even before they did, and know how it is. I said before in SPIR that I share a little that others might share a lot. It is not my job to lift the reader from his mat. I am used as a wine dresser, among others. What is often missed in the reading is the point of the sharing. For instance, I shared that a priest had once written to me to “get over it” when I shared a second time about the censoring of my art at a Catholic Art Show. I explained why I shared the experience both times, then a third time, some time later. Had I not gone through these EXPERIENCES … I would not be as I am, and I am not a pew sitter, nor am I aligned with any religious faction or denomination. I am not anti-religious, but I am REQUIRED as part of my dress to call out hypocrisy, but to also explain the Senses, and the Tribulation as well as the Light. If you understand my Place, you understand my call.

Now, given this, do you think the skimmers will get it? I will answer this simply: No. Why is that? They have yet to see The Return.

I was in a parish a few years ago and during this time I had a dream of profound proportions. I will share just the end. I came into the parish from another building, and stood between the Ruler and the Judge. As I stood there, I saw the church building shaking, and the priest held out his arms because his congregation was in alarm. He looked directly at me and I saw in his eyes that he knew why the church was shaking. I went and sat in a back pew and saw that the priest’s wife was with the collection basket. I found it odd that she was collecting. Usually I had my check already written and ready to put into the basket, but in my dream, I did not. I took out my checkbook and pen and tried to write a check … but could not. The priest’s wife waited and waited while I struggled to write the check. I recall thinking: Gee, that is nice of her to wait for me to write my check. The check never got written in my dream because I began to wake, and when I awoke, I knew money was being stolen from the parish.

Several months later, while looking up something having to do with religious architecture, I read online that a large sum of money had been stolen from that parish. Now, do you think I know who stole the money?

I was discerning in something that was said to me yesterday. A person of non belief in the Spirit came to me and handed me a small pinkish-white pebble we had found in some local produce. The pebble was about the size of a peppercorn. There was something about the exchange that caught my attention, and remained with me until much later. What I heard when I asked on its meaning was this:

Even a small pebble pierces the heart.

The little pebble is also the little book.

The skimmers can sit in their pews and write their checks, but I will write what I see in the little book. No harm done here.